"'The bell has been rung, and the mass hath been sung,
And the feast eat merrily,
Merrily!'
"and the king's master of the ceremonies absent."
The aspect of affairs was now more serious than he had anticipated. Supper was indeed commencing. Some scheme or witty device must be hit upon,—speedily too, or the king's displeasure might be difficult to assuage.
"But for thy bright eyes and fair speech, my lady Grace, I had not been amissing from my duty." He looked thoughtful, and it was the maiden's turn to rally.
They ascended the hill by a short but steep path. As they approached the summit, he seemed to awake from a deep reverie.
"Now have you granted me an audience for a lover's sake—to-morrow, let me be the ambassador for another."
"I have no lovers from whom I would care to be honoured with an embassy!"
"None?" said the knight, peering curiously, as if he would penetrate the folds of a real Flanders scarf she had thrown carelessly about her head—
"'Then will I be thy lover true,
And thou my beauteous queene,'
"through these gay festivities. But mark me!"—He became serious on the sudden. The expression of his eye, from its general character of assumed gaiety, was changed into that of tenderness and respect. "Mark me, lady, I would be spared the horror of a rival. Will you be my partner in these pageantries—my mistress unto whom I may render mine homage and my trust?"